


Blood And Ectoplasm

by TheSoulOfAStrawberry



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Agender!Sam, Amputation, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Demiboy!Tucker, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Menstruation, Mostly self-gratifying soft queer love story?, Somewhat anyway, Trans Character, trans!Danny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 14:52:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10389264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSoulOfAStrawberry/pseuds/TheSoulOfAStrawberry
Summary: The fact Sam and Danny were synced didn’t make them both getting their periods any easier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i kinda wrote this as danny/tucker/sam but not particularly serious or sexual (at all, for the latter) but you can take it how you want! mostly a vignette abt queer kids caring about their queer friends. nice. 
> 
> also i guess this is pre-t danny since the american healthcare system is a pile of poop?? 
> 
> tw dysphoria, transphobia (allusions to only, no slurs bc fuck that) and amputation. though it's danny so he grows it back fine weew

The fact Sam and Danny were synced didn’t make them both getting their periods any easier.

Not least, of course, because Sam hated their period. Not that they guessed anyone liked them, but they definitely actively hated them more than anyone else. They didn’t mark the dates down because they liked to pretend it wouldn’t happen, but of course, every month, without fail, that same cycle of pain and discomfort took them by surprise as it swung at their midriff.

That was, until they met Daniel Fenton in eighth grade. Initially, they’d have no reason to think Danny would even care about how they kept track of their period- after all, guys rarely ever knew how periods worked, let alone empathised with those having them. And yet, they’d barely been friends two months, only just starting to hang out on a regular basis, when Danny’s best friend Tucker pulled Sam aside before English, a sombre expression schooling his features.

“Look, it’s kinda weird having to tell you this but if you’re gonna be friends with Danny then you’re probably gonna need to understand what’s happening. Danny’s… Danny’s on his time of the month, so just? Yknow. I guess he might be a bit tetchy and maybe a bit of a jerk, but try not to go hard on him? It’s not a good time, and like, he’s a good guy really, he just might need some space.”

“Wait, what?”

Tucker took in their expression of incredulity and visibly cringed. “Wait, you mean you didn’t know Danny was trans? Geez, I thought you were some kinda gender non-conforming? Oh man…”

“I am,” Sam said quickly, and then, “I guess.” They paused for a second, and Tucker was silent, as if waiting for them to continue. They weren’t sure whether they should be offended by how guarded he looked right then, but they supposed Tucker had been friends with Danny for a long time before Sam had come along. It was sad that Tucker seemed so used to vetting his friends like this. 

“I mean,” they started again, “I figured you were both some kinda queer anyway, but I just thought Danny was a regular cis dude.” Some things clicked into place in that moment, “Wait, does everyone else know? Is that why Dash bullies him? Man, I thought I couldn’t hate that guy any more than I already did,” they spat, clenching their fists.

“No,” Tucker said, putting his hands up in front of him as if expecting Sam to lunge at him, and then, when seeing their expression, lowered them slightly. “It’s not supposed to be common knowledge but I’ve known Danny forever so it’s really hard to tell if people can work it out or not by looking at him.” His face softened into a smile as he continued, “Though, hey, if there’s ever an opportunity for you to tell him you thought he was a cis guy, you should, he’d love to hear that from someone like you.”

Marred though it were by echoes of Danny’s struggles, there was something tender about that moment. It was a quiet statement of friendship and vulnerability about both Tucker and Danny, and wasn’t something Sam would forget in a hurry. They were still mulling it over later when they met up with the two boys for lunch, and Sam felt ease and something not unlike relief fall in their chest when they realised knowing Danny was trans didn’t change the way they thought about him, beyond empathising with the scowl he wore while he ate his sandwich on a bench round the back of the school.

From then on, Sam kept a track of their periods. They weren’t sure what they wanted to achieve with that initially, but they knew that at the rate the trio started hanging out after their conversation with Tucker, Sam and Danny were bound to sync up at some point, and it was useful to know. Even if only to quietly find ways to validate Danny through compliments or by leaving small gifts in his bag or locker.

Unfortunately, barely had Sam managed to work this out than everything got thrown on its head again with the event of Danny’s ghost powers. 

“Dude.” Sam had never heard Tucker sound so angry. “You can’t go whole day at school and then fight ghosts until late wearing your binder. You’re gonna do some serious damage.”

“I fucking know, Tucker, but I don’t know what you want me to do, ok? I can’t just… y’know… URGH!” Danny threw his hands up in frustration before hissing in pain, bringing Sam’s attention to the gash in his side that they supposed had been quietly oozing ectoplasm since they’d finish fighting that oversized ghost-cat on the far end of town towards the Elmerton canals. Sam approached Danny quietly and he let them sit him down on his bed. After giving the wound a closer look, they gestured at Tucker to pass them the first-aid kit they knew was crammed in Danny’s top drawer. 

Tucker almost flung it at Sam, all the while glaring at Danny. “Well,” he said, crossing his arms, “You’re still wearing it now, and it’s just us here. We don’t care, we’re your friends, you’re Danny to us either way.”

“Geez Tuck, it’s good to know you still consider yourself my friend and not my mum. And yeah, I’d rather have you off my back than my binder any day.”

“Danny,” Sam started, and he twisted to face them, face twisted in rage.

“Oh, so you’re on his side,” he spat, and Sam’s face hardened.

“Piss off Danny, you know it’s not like that. There are no sides. Tucker and I just care about you.”

“We’ve had this conversation so many times Danny,” Tucker sighed. “And you’ve cracked a rib like, what, four times already? We’re trying to help you.”

“Four times?” Sam spluttered, before registering the deepening scowl on Danny’s face and themselves taking a moment to sigh and take a deep breath. “Look, neither of us can understand how hard this is, both the trans and ghost parts,” they half-smiled, “But Tucker’s right, you are going to- I mean, you have already done serious damage, so you have to be more careful. We don’t expect you to not wear a binder at school or whatever, but I dunno, take it off when you get home or switch to a sports bra sometimes?” They touched his arm, and was pleased to see his face finally soften a little, notwithstanding the pain they supposed he was still feeling from his side. “You’re pretty flat-chested anyway dude, I doubt anyone will notice with those baggy shirts you wear.”

“Yeah, and take it off now,” Tucker added, and Danny scowled again, though Sam was relieved to see the lines on his face not going as deep as they had before, the anger in his eyes instead replaced with a somewhat playful indignance.

“Gimme a sec to finish with this cut please,” Sam interjected, and even though they were concentrating on opening an anti-bacterial wipe, they didn’t miss the soft smiles that crossed both boy’s faces.

Danny, of course, didn’t change his ways. After all, this was the same boy who wasn’t obligated to get into most of the ghost fights he got into, nor to round up ghosts and throw them in the Ghost Zone, nor the myriad of other duties he carried out as a halfa, but would throw his all into doing it and keep going until he was spitting ectoplasm on the pavement and stitching-up his own wounds in a back alley. Sam hardly blamed him: his parents waxed lyrical about the horrifying things they would do upon catching the elusive ghost boy, ghosts teased him every time he accidentally slipped back into his human form from the pressure of the fight, and the kids at school would tease him for lord knows what arbitrary reasons. They’d hardly want to see Danny have to throw transphobic abuse into that mix, though Sam was sure he already endured some anyway. 

Sam and Tucker tried to stay on top of it all the same, naturally falling into a sort of “good cop, bad cop” rhythm, but in the end, Danny worked it out for himself.

When Danny had disappeared from class one Wednesday morning under the guise of a stomach ache, Sam expected to see him again with something not unlike an actual stomach ache, pretending whatever bruising he’d acquired wasn’t a big deal. They didn’t expect Danny appearing behind them at lunch break, wearing a smirk better suited for Phantom than Fenton. 

“I gotta show you guys something,” was all the warning they got before he grabbed their wrists and dragged them down the corridor, away from the canteen.

“Dude,” Tucker protested as he opened one of the caretaker’s closets they so frequently used for such meetings and pushed them inside, “This better be good, it’s tacos today. Tacos Danny. They don’t come every day. In fact, these days, they don’t even come every week- hey, that’s why we’ve been thermos-ing the Lunch Lady so much recently, I just realised.”

Danny barely waited for Tucker to finish before going ghost in front of them, grinning widely now. He cocked his head to the side slightly and pulled the neck of his suit to the side to expose one bare, tan shoulder.

It took Sam slightly longer than Tucker to work out what they were supposed to be looking at.

“Yoooooooo dude how did you do that?” Tucker’s eyes were almost as bright as Danny’s ghostly green ones.

“I met- I mean, I was fighting her but then it turned out she was cool and we stopped, but yeah, I met this really cool ghost who showed me how to alter your ghost form slightly, ‘cause a lot of what a ghost is is just a kinda ectoplasmic hologram. I mean, it was a little different for me since I still got bones and stuff but it’s still all made out of ectoplasm so yeah! I mean it hurt a little and was kinda difficult to do but now Danny Phantom has no need for a binder,” he finished proudly, winking for effect. His cheeks flushed a further green when he was met with enthusiastic embraces from his two friends, and as they placed a kiss on Danny’s cheek, Sam wasn’t sure they’d ever felt so happy for another person in their life as much as they did in that moment.

As with ghost fighting though, Danny’s problems were pretty endless. A year or so in and the constant stress of fighting and hiding started to take a visible toll on Danny and his mental health, which while bad, made him care less, making him flippant about telling the truth about his struggles more, often in the form of fatalistic humour.

“What can I say, I’m quite literally dead inside,” he replied when Tucker asked him how he was doing on a day he looked particularly rough. Tucker laughed, having figured when this started that appeasing these cries for attention with laughter might put Danny more at ease and let on more to his friends. Sam, on the other hand, as a goth, had more than enough practice in stoicism, but didn’t need it to not laugh at those “jokes” of Danny’s. 

In the end though, neither Sam nor Tucker had the right reaction, as these jokes were a guise for a number of much deeper problems. Their joint realisation of this came on a dark, overcast day, where the sky rolled with thunder as Sam and Tucker watched Danny fight an experienced ghost nearly six times his size that had ambushed him while he floated through the park on the way home from school. So high-up and backed against darkening skies, the only thing keeping their eyes on Danny was his faint aura and the glowing white of his hair. In retrospect, even though it was nail-bitingly tense to not be able to work out who was winning from the ground, it was much better being barely able to make out where he was in the sky than the horrifying moment a few seconds later when they watched their friend shoot almost out of nowhere into a parked car, which crumpled with the impact. 

Indeed, it was certainly less terrifying not being able to see him in the sky, than not being able to see him arise from the wreckage of a car.

Sam supposed it was quite fitting that the heavens finally open when they reached Danny, lay on his back in a crater of metal, plastic and broken glass. He might have looked quite serene as his tears mixed with the rain, were it not for the fact his entire left hand was missing from just above the wrist and his thigh was impaled on a piece of metal from the doorframe, along with a number of other wounds. Sam found they could only hold his remaining hand as Tucker searched frantically through the rucksack for the Ecto-Dejecto they’d taken to using when Danny was in such a state that turning human would send him into shock.

“It’s going to be ok,” Sam said, not quite believing themselves as they looked down at Danny. Tucker placed a kiss on his forehead as he finished injecting the Ecto-Dejecto, as if trying to compensate for Sam’s lacking in comforting. Danny closed his eyes, tears still leaking from the corners, and Sam tried to shake him awake.

“Danny, stay with us, you can’t revert back, you’ve got to heal first, Danny! Talk to me Danny!”

“I’m so stupid,” Danny whispered.

“You’re not stupid Danny, that ghost was crazy powerful and you’re like 15. No one thinks you’re stupid, you’re a hero. Danny-”

Danny opened his eyes again, ever so slightly, such that they could barely see the glow of his eyes. 

“Not that… I only went ghost ‘cause… ghosts don’t menstruate.” He closed his eyes. “Some hero, ‘s only a freak-‘f-nature ‘cause it’s better than being a freak.”

Tucker stopped what he was doing to share a look with Sam, as they both realised how far out of their depth all three of them had gone, Danny more so than any of them.

When Sam realised Danny’s sixteenth fell on his period a few months later, they hired out a whole diner on the far end of town, away from Fentonworks and his parents, where Danny could go ghost and join Sam and Tucker in comfort on what Tucker coined an “ice-cream date”, despite the fact he ordered pancakes. Sam couldn’t ever be sure he wasn’t pretending, but at least it seemed as if Danny was at ease. He took it in his stride when a small family missed the notice on the door and wandered in, the eyes of their two small children lighting up when they realised they’d walked in on none other than Danny Phantom’s birthday party.

“How come ghosts celebrate birthdays?” the smallest one asked. They’d managed to shuffle into the booth beside Danny, and after some insistences from both sides that it was fine, their parents had sat on another table close-by, eyeing their children sat beside a ghost for a while before seeming to relax and ordering burgers. Danny grinned.

“Why not? You get cake, what’s not to love?” he said, stealing a spoonful of Sam’s passionfruit sorbet.

“What about your death day? Do you celebrate that?”

None of them, save maybe the smallest child, who was fiddling with his waffle, missed Danny’s flinch. Sam was about to jump in when the PR side of Danny that he seemed to have developed since the Pariah Dark incident came out, and he gave a somewhat forced smile.

“No, I don’t, but some ghosts do, and that’s pretty sweet right? Plus you can still do stuff like Easter and Christmas!”

Sam took it upon themselves to text Danny’s parents to tell them he was staying at the Manson’s, and arranging a ride from the diner with their chauffeur. As they paid (and generously tipped) the staff, they placed a hand on his back.

“My parents are out of town, and Jacob won’t ask any questions, so if you want to stay like that, you can. But I’m choosing what we watch when we get back because we’ve watched so many space documentaries, I think we’re single-handedly keeping the genre on Netflix,” they said, and while he pouted, Sam watched his aura grow brighter, softening the late evening shadows cast across the front of the diner.

It wasn’t a bulletproof plan, Sam admitted quietly to themselves the next morning when they awoke face-to-face with a pale-skinned boy they hadn’t gone to sleep next to. And yet, a year ago, Danny wouldn’t have been comfortable with the way Tucker’s hand held his waist, but Sam watched a half-asleep Danny reach down and wind his fingers round Tucker’s, before cracking open his eyes and giving Sam a lopsided smile.

“Thank you.”


End file.
